Tale of a non-friendship
by KatieBY
Summary: Was that all a life was worth? A beautiful box, an elegant suit, and the most expensive area to place the coffin. In the end, all of his material possessions didn't matter. One day a person is breathing, eating, committing evil deeds, doing good, loving, hating, and the next day, it's as if they didn't exist.


_**House: GRYFFINDOR**_

_**Class: History of Magic**_

_**Category: Standard**_

_**Prompt: **__**[Event] Funeral of a frenemy (one who is both a friend and enemy)**_

_**Word Count: 1264**_

_**I am not a native English speaker, Any grammar mistakes were made unintentionally so I apologize in advance. I have dyslexia and I am still learning English.**_

_**Special thanks to my Gryffindor team for betaing this chapter**_

**Warning: cannon divergence**

_**Tale of a non-friendship**_

Severus walked slowly, trying to sneak amongst the shadows of a place that was dimly lit. There weren't many people there, apart from the deceased's wife and son, who remained stoic in their position nearest the coffin. A few wizards in business robes—likely Draco's clients or partners—were gathered in the far corner of the room, whispering amongst themselves. There were also some distant family members most likely making an appearance in the hope of attaining some of the deceased's fortune.

He really didn't know why he was there; his relationship with the Malfoys had been void since the war had ended. Lucius had spent ten years in Azkaban where he'd become seriously ill, before being handed over to his family to serve his remaining sentence at home. Rumors had spread that the Lucius who had returned from prison was a broken man and probably a little crazy, but as Severus had never visited him, he couldn't confirm whether or not it was true. He hadn't even written a letter to the blond. Why would he? He had hated Lucius deeply, and yet here he was, attracted by an inexplicable force that made him make an appearance in the last goodbye of the man who had pushed him into the most horrendous decision of his life. He refused to recognize the lump in his throat or the fact that he felt guilty for not having contacted him when he had the chance.

With a heavy sigh, he simply concentrated on the elegantly-decorated wooden box in front of him. Was that all a life was worth? A beautiful box, an elegant suit, and the most expensive area to place the coffin. In the end, all of his material possessions didn't matter. One day a person is breathing, eating, committing evil deeds, doing good, loving, hating, and the next day, it's as if they didn't exist.

It felt like it was just yesterday that Severus last spoke with him.

_"Severus Snape, you're nothing but a traitor, a disgusting half-blood who has betrayed us when we gave you everything," the blond spat between his teeth shortly before being brought to trial._

_Severus had been at the ministry since he'd had to go through a war crimes trial; he had come away free, but he was sure that the other man would not have the same fate._

_"I hope you rot in Azkaban," he replied calmly, still feeling the wounds of battle._

_He had followed his path without looking back._

A choked sob took him out of his thoughts. Draco was rigid where he stood, but his chest was shaking, and he had his head down to hide the tears he shed. Lucius wouldn't have approved of that; a Malfoy never showed his feelings in public, and they were even trained to not show any feelings in private. The boy—well, the man now—raised his face without wiping his tears. He stood in front of his father's remains, put a hand on the coffin and left it there for a moment while he closed his eyes. He then withdrew his hand, straightened his shoulders, and left the room with a walk worthy of a Malfoy.

Knowing that he would no longer see either Draco or his father gave Severus a sinking feeling in his stomach. His brain continually replayed small scenes of his relationship with the man who was now dead.

"_Little squalid boy, do your parents not love you? How come you don't have books for your classes? What a shame for our house," the blond prefect said contemptuously in front of the entire Slytherin common room to the pale first year with a big nose. _

_Days later, however, Severus had found brand new school supplies at the foot of his bed. The prefect never said anything, but the boy knew the truth of who had put them there._

_"Polish my boots well, half blood, or do you want everyone to hear about your miserable Muggle father?" a seventh year Lucius Malfoy said to a nervous, greasy-haired boy. _

_After he had the boy clean them until they were completely glowing, he threw a Galleon on the floor. "Go out with your girlfriend, that Mudblood tadpole. I hope you return it to me one day, when you live in a better house than mine, when you have more wealth than me, and when you have more luck in life."_

"Severus?" A voice broke into his stormy thoughts again.

Narcissa Malfoy had stood up and approached him. She was wearing a complete mourning outfit: black dress, black gloves, and an overcoat with veils. Her face was pale and withered, her once bright eyes now sunken.

"Narcissa." He greeted her with a small nod, but said nothing more.

The recent widow didn't say anything else, either, and staggered to another nearby post, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Severus was relieved that until then, no one had questioned his presence, because he would not have known how to justify it.

Taking a few brave steps, he moved closer to the coffin, standing before someone who, until recently, was a man who'd been able to speak and breathe.

_An elegant owl soared into the Great Hall, carrying with it a package. It swooped down, carefully placing it on the table right in front of a very confused young Slytherin. Then, without looking back, it took off, managing to avoid knocking any plates or bowls with its huge wings. The boy opened the package and found an incredibly rare book of potions which he'd never have dreamed he'd have access to; it was such a rare copy that it was not even in the Hogwarts library. It came with a small note: _

'My mansion was cleaned, taking out all the garbage in it; surely you can use some charity.'

_Things had only become more complicated since then. Lucius had constantly sent owls with rare and expensive objects that happened to be 'left over' from a clean-out. They were usually accompanied by some short comment that, on the surface, contained insults or were indifferent, but had a deeper meaning. _

_It was only when Severus left Hogwarts with a broken heart full of hatred that he met Lucius again face to face._

"_I told you not to join the Mudbloods and traitors, Severus; I warned you what would happen. You cannot trust them; they'll toy with your heart. But you can get the revenge you are looking for, you can clean your blood; you owe it to me to try," Lucius Malfoy had whispered to the young man who was lost in a shabby Hogsmeade tavern._

Placing a hand in his pocket, he took out something he had prepared the moment he had decided to come to the funeral. It was a note, but as he didn't trust himself to speak, he merely held it up, hoping the blond could read it from wherever he was.

'_Here you are, Lucius. My house is bigger than a box no matter how elegant and expensive the box is, I don't consider myself particularly rich, and as for luck in life, well I don't know if I'm lucky, but I certainly have life... but don't worry, old friend, I'm sure that one day I'll catch up with you. That is how it works, isn't it? You will return it to me.' _

He deposited on the box the object he had brought with him. Turning around, he left the room, without looking back.

On the coffin, glued with a charm, was a shiny Galleon.


End file.
